


In a Sky Full of Grey

by ThePeculiars



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Flash Thompson Redemption, Fluff, Hurt Peter Parker, May is gonna die, Peter Parker Whump, Peter is dead, Poor Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Some Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, a lot of bs, but not really, compliant, fake death, from mentor, i'm unpredictable, just saying, not the main focus - Freeform, or...maybe it is, peter is a babey, probably in asgard, soon, thor isn't here, to father
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-03-27 15:10:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19015420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePeculiars/pseuds/ThePeculiars
Summary: For the first time in a while, everything's coming up Peter Parker. With his Friday visits to Iron Man himself and upcoming date with Michelle Jones, maybe not everything has to go wrong.Until his senses flare in the worse possible place.And his aunt is killed.And Peter Parker is presumed dead.





	1. Start of Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the conclusion of sophomore year, things start looking up for Peter Parker.

"Shit!"

For being an agile, crime-fighting superhero, Peter Parker still manages to trip over his untied shoelaces. And almost tackle Michelle Jones.

Which sucks, because she kept her balance, making him awkwardly fall into her chest. Which sucks even more because now he's beet red and mumbling twenty thousand apologies.

She lightly pushes him off of her, looking down at his sneakers. "Alright Parker, you're now officially classified as incompetent in my book."

"You're book?"

"Yeah. Michelle's Guide to Losers and Nimrods. You should be proud, there's a full chapter dedicated to Peter 'Inept' Parker." She punches his arm with her free fist that's not holding any books or binders. 

That's a thing they've been doing recently. A lot. It was shocking enough when Michelle decided to sit four seats (rather than seven) away from him and Ned at lunch. Then two.

Next thing he knew, she was insisting they call her "MJ" because that's what her friends did (Peter and Ned decided it's best to trust her word regarding other friends who called her that).

But the touching thing was new. Peter first considered it a part of his step-by-step plan to make MJ come out of her shell, but now he's not so sure.

Now, the light shoves and high-fives and punches and laughing-into-the-other's-shoulder-because-what-they-said-was-so-damn-funny made his face go red. And his heart speed up. 

And sometimes he can swear to Thor that he sees a hint of pink on her darker complexion. 

"And what was I before that?" Before Peter can stop her, Michelle is on the ground tying his shoes for him with her books pushed off to the side. "Uh, what're you doing?"

"A favor? And I had at least assumed you'd be able to use basic human motor skills on your own, but I stand, well... kneel, corrected."

"Yeah, but could you maybe not do this in the middle of the hallway? I don't want Fla-"

"Woah! Keep it PG Penis Parker!" Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Michelle rolls her eyes as she picks her book up from off the ground and stands by Peter.

Flash walks past them, turning around in the process to see them as he goes. "Are you kidding me? You had to get Michelle's help with tying your shoe? Is she carrying your books too?"

"Shut up, Flash. You don't know what you're talking about."

"For someone who's interning with Tony Stark, you're pretty shit at comebacks."

The only progress that's been made with Peter and Flash's relationship is that now he believes Peter when it comes to the Stark Internship. When Happy Hogan showed up at Midtown School of Science and Technology to pick up 'the kid' and take him to the Avengers Compound, Flash managed to convince himself that Peter's story might not be a complete lie. 

"For someone who's not interning with Tony Stark, you're pretty shit in general." Peter doesn't know whether to smile at MJ's quip or get offended at the insult to his mentor. He knows she probably doesn't mean it (and if she did, she definitely wouldn't say it to his face), so he sniggers.

Flash is baffled for a moment, but recovers to scoff and turn the corner.

"I'm going to let that comment about Mr. Stark slide because the look on Flash's face was priceless."

"Oh, he's had worse blows to his ego then that. I'm sure he'll be fine."

"I'll take those, if you'd like," he offers, gesturing to her full arms. He didn't have to ask her twice. She dumped the books into him and he followed her to her locker.

MJ is one of the only high school students that not only use their locker, but leave their backpacks in it as well.

She opens it and trades a few binders with the ones in Peter's hands, piling them into her bag. "So, you got any plans this weekend, Parker?"

"Besides homework and seeing Mr. Stark on Friday, not really. May said she has to call an electrician because there was some we-"

"Do you wanna see movie?"

"-ird smell in the pipes... wait, what?"

"That new Star Wars movie came out, like, last week? I think. And, I don't know if you've seen it yet, but I was wondering if you'd want to go? See it? With me? Maybe?"

Call him crazy, but MJ was blushing? And stuttering. And asking him out.

Never in a million years would he think Michelle Jones, the woman who's read Michelle Obama's autobiography three times, would ask Peter Parker, the boy who went to school without his right shoe once, to go see a movie.

Let alone Star Wars!

"Yeah, yeah I've seen it a-already. But, but, yeah, I could see it again. I could, yeah, with you. Totally. That's the, that... like a, well, you know."

"A date?" MJ cocks an eyebrow. Peter scolds himself.

_Couldn't get out one sentence, could you?_

"Yep, that's the word." Michelle giggles. _Giggles_. "When were you thinking of going on the... well, the..."

"The date, Peter. It's called a date. And I was thinking Friday night, but if you have the Stark Internship, then I could-"

"No, no, no, no, no." Peter cuts her off. As much as he loves tinkering with Tony, he can take off early for a date, right? Oh god, he's got to get a suit. Wait, do you wear suits on dates? Maybe to eat, but for a movie?

May is going to have a long afternoon.

"Friday is okay. I usually don't stay longer than six o'clock anyway, so, Friday is fine. What time?"

"The movie starts at eight-fifteen, but if that's past your bedtime then-"

"Har har, very funny. I'll have to ask May, but I think I can make that. And dinner, of course." MJ gives him a curious side-glance. 

_Oh, does she not want dinner?_

"Dinner is fine."

_Did I say that out loud?_

"Yeah, you did. But, just so we're clear, I'm paying for the movie. You can buy dinner but I'm paying for something."

"MJ that's not-"

"Nope. I'm buying the tickets and the drinks and the popcorn and you can't convince me otherwise." She pokes his chest and he nods, dumbfounded. "Is seven okay? For dinner?"

MJ scrunches her nose and Peter smiles. "I love watching previews so if you think an hour is enough time to eat and drive to the theatre then sure."

"We could go to The Door, that's close to a few theatres."

"Yeah, but that place is way too upscale. Dining with more than one fork isn't my speed. Can't we go to Applebee's? It's much closer, cheaper, and faster. And 'there's no place like the neighborhood.'"

It's Peter's turn to roll his eyes. "If that's what you want to do. Seven then? Meet at Applebee's?"

She swings her backpack over her shoulder. Peter bounces on the balls of his feet while she checks her phone.

_I've got to tell Ned, now._

"Yeah. And that's seven sharp, Peter Parker. I know how much of a flake you can be so I expect you to be there not a second late."

"I won't, I promise." MJ smiles lightly. Though he's never given it too much thought, MJ's genuine smile was nice.

Something he's hoping he'll get the privilege of getting used to.

"My mom's outside. So, I'll see you tomorrow Peter! And if Friday doesn't work for you, then," she points at her phone. "Yeah, text me."

"Bye, MJ."

"Later, loser." And she's gone around the corner.

Peter's mind reels. He felt his heart beat getting louder and louder with every second he stood there, staring at the hallway MJ disappeared behind.

His brain finally catches up with himself and he begins moving toward his own locker.

Peter can't find it in himself to focus on school.

The only homework he technically needs to finish before the next day is a few memories from  _The Things They Carried_  and a Spanish worksheet. Both of which might take him an hour total. "Are you okay, Peter?" He jumps and his head whips at Ned's voice. "Oh, sorry man. I thought you saw me."

"Yeah, no. I didn't. I was just," he points down the hall. "Staring at your locker?"

"Ha, no. Um, I'm thinking."

"About?"

"MJ." Ned's eyes almost bug out of his head.

In hindsight, Peter should have provided context to that instead of leaving it open for Ned's interpretation.

"What do you mean, MJ? Like as in, 'I gotta talk to MJ so we can work on that civics presentation due next week'? Or does MJ like you? Oh my go- or do you like MJ?! Does May know, does MJ know? When did-"

"Ned!" Ned's lips clamp and lock together. Peter can swear this is the most he's ever had Ned's undivided attention.

Better make use of it while he can. "MJ asked me out. On a date. Friday. To see Star Wars, of all things!"

"Wha- you and MJ? Seriously? That's, that's great! Oh my god! Oh my- MJ? When did that happen? You said yes, right?"

"Duh, I said yes! It's MJ. She's awesome... and if I said no, I'd probably have to sleep with one eye open for the rest of my life."

"And when you're dead, that girl would haunt you in the afterlife."

"You're the weirdest hype-man. I'm supposed to be excited for my date, not scared." Ned wiggles his head around.

It wouldn't be a surprise if he was dreaming. He _did_ hit his head on that subway bar this morning... "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You're right. Sorry. It's just, this is your first date. Our first date, collectively, man. We're taking a step into adulthood."

"Geez, Ned. I realize that you're one of six people who've read and enjoyed _Great Expectations_ , but you're taking the whole 'coming of age' idea way to literally. And what do you mean 'we're'? Did MJ ask you on a date too?" 

"No, but I've been considering asking Betty out and you're taking the plunge first, so maybe I should too." Peter's heard plenty when it comes to Ned's crush on Betty.

Maybe 'crush' is too small a word. Peter has heard Ned _obsess_ and _gush_ over Betty Brant for over a month.

He's seen it too. They've both been flirting relentlessly and he wouldn't be surprised if they were going on a date by the end of the week as well. "Dude, absolutely. She's totally into you."

"No, she doesn't... You think?" Peter groans. "Uh, yeah! What's there not to like about you? You're smart, and funny, and nice, and you've got one of the coolest best friends in school. Hell, I'd date you if MJ didn't take me first."

Peter feels strange mentioning himself being 'taken' by MJ. Not that he doesn't like it. It sounds nice.

"You should go for it man, the school years almost over. We're about to be Juniors. Then Seniors. Then, we're graduating, buddy. Do it now, before you get old."

"Are you calling eighteen old?"

"Yeah. Us becoming legal adults? _That's_ scary. Going to college? Getting a job and all that."

"So, you're back on board with college?"

"Mr. Stark has been talking so much with his pull at MIT and NYU that I'm sure he'd disown me if I skipped out on college."

The boys make their way outside and onto the football field. And it's hot. After months of cold and dealing with the New York winter, having a warmer day in felt alien and, naturally, Peter was wearing one of his hoodies.

"Tony Stark is talking to colleges for you? Peter, you could go anywhere you want with a recommendation from him."

He knows. Peter wasn't exactly jumping for joy when Tony said he'd help with college. Being Spider-Man alongside taking care of Aunt May, Peter figured college was off the market.

But when his acute sense of hearing caused him to "accidentally" overhear Tony talking on the phone with some university in _Germany_ , Peter knew Tony was serious.

Very serious.

"I know. But I don't think I want to go anywhere out of state. Queens still needs Spider-Man and May needs me too. It's a lot to think about."

"I'm not trying to take our friendship for granted, but could you maybe convince Tony to give me a hand in college admissions? That would be so dope." 

"Y'know what Ned? Sure, I'll talk to him." The combination of Ned's elated face and bear hug made Peter type a reminder into his phone:

**Fri, April 19**

**Mr. Stark- Ned college**

Needless to say, Peter embarks on his long, yet bearable journey home with a slight skip in his step.

\---

"Hey, Aunt May. I need your help." May's head perks up over the edge of the couch, settling the book she was reading in her lap.

Peter gets déjà vu of another time he was asking May for help with a girl.

(He finds himself wondering how Liz is doing every so often).

(But when he does, he feels bad).

(So, he tries not to).

Nowadays, Homecoming feels like ages ago. "Holy s-, what's that smell?" Peter waffs his face to relieve his nose from the odor, but it doesn't do much of anything.

Peter can feel the ever-so-slight tickle at the back of his neck. It's so small he nearly misses it.

Nearly.

"It's apparently a pipe leak. Neighbors smell it too. Someone's coming on Friday to hopefully fix it. I can light some candles, if you'd like."

"I'm okay."

"Anyhow, what's up?"

"Um, well, long story short... I have a date with MJ on Friday at seven and I have no idea what to do."

"Oh my, are you serious? Michelle?" May climbs to her feet and gives Peter a quick hug and her full attention. "Yes! Why does everyone have a hard time believing I have a date?"

"Sorry, Pete. That's fantastic. You've never talked about liking Michelle, so I guess I'm a little shocked that you asked her."

"She asked me." May laughs, her hands fitting onto the edges of her hips. "I'm not surprised. That girl's gonna be the one to propose too."

Peter steps back, arms flailing in front of him. "Woah, who said anything about marriage?"

"I'm not saying she's going to marry you, Peter. She's a perceptive young women, and I don't doubt she'd do it." 

"Before I have an aneurysm, can you help me decide what I'm going to wear? If I've got to buy anything for her? I should get her flowers, shouldn't I?" May waves Peter over to follow her into his room.

He's remodeled a bit ever since May found out he was Spider-Man, which was a very long and laborious conversation. Things were said, tears were shed, and May insisted that he would get some curtains over his windows.

And that was that.

She shuffles through Peter's shirts and jeans, throwing some out and onto his carpet.

He gets especially embarrassed when she starts pulling out his boxers. "Aye, aye, aye, I got that." He takes over her job and May filters the pile on the floor. "Do you know what she's wearing? Or where you're going?"

"No- I don't know what she's wearing. And we're going to Applebee's and then a movie."

"Ooh, which movie?"

"Star Wars."

"She likes Star Wars?"

"I didn't think so. She used to call us losers when we talked about it. Still does. But, maybe I don't know her well enough."

"That's what the date's for. Why Applebee's? Here, try this on." She hands him a blue button-up.

Peter promptly removes his shirt and replaces it with the new one. It fits him semi-snug, but not too tight. "MJ's choice. It's close to the movie and The Room is too classy for her liking. She also forced me into letting her pay for the movie, so I need to like, buy her flowers or do something extra besides paying for dinner. "

"That's cute," May says, tugging down on the edge of his shirt.

He's ninety-percent sure she's not listening anymore, so he shuts up. "Could you wear those navy dress pants I bought you last Christmas?"

"May, I think those are two sized too small now." She looks at him, curiously.

The Spider-Man thing must've gone super over her head. He keeps assuming that May knowing means she's' accustomed, but there's still a lot she doesn't know.

A lot he doesn't tell her. "Okay... maybe tucked in those black jeans you packed on the decathlon trip?"

"If I can find them, they might look good." Peter continues the search in his dresser. "What time did you say?"

"Seven sharp, not a second late, MJ says."

"Have you told Tony?"

"Oh, yeah," he remembers, pulling his phone from his pocket. Almost forgot. "I'll text him now."

Another new element in the complex life of Peter Parker. He not only had Tony's personal number, but the man himself responds. That little tidbit made him feel all the more special. 

**Hey, Mr. Stark!**

**I've got plans on Friday at 7:00, so I might need to leave early, if that's okay with you.**

**I can reschedual if you need me too.**

**Maybe.**

**reschedule*****

Peter will bask in the day he sends one text that isn't so freaking awkward. He wishes iMessage had the handy 'unsend' button Instagram has.

"As for the flower," May starts, sitting on the rolling chair alongside his desk. "Don't get a rose, those are too normal. I'd say go for simple but unusual. Does she have a favorite color?

Peter shrugs. "I was thinking about getting her a Black Dahlia. There’s this famous murder that MJ fawns over and the victim was called... ‘Black Dahlia’ so I thought it’d be good.”

"That’s... oddly specific and terrifying. But, touching, in a way. Swing by the florist on your way home tomorrow and see if they have anything. Not literally, of course."

"I'll have to do it after my patrol." 

"Whenever you have time, Pete." She goes to leave, uncoiling her lose ponytail and leans on the frame of his door. "Are you wanting anything for dinner? I was thinking sushi. Do you have homework?"

"Sushi's fine with me. And not much, I'll get started now and we can leave in an hour or so."

"Sounds good." She shuts the door behind herself and leaves to continue reading, Peter assumes. He shouts, "Aye, May?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the help!"

"No problem."

\---

Tony finally responds around eight o'clock at night. And evidently, it doesn't take long at all for the genius to figure out what's going on.

 

**Who's the girl?**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i.... don’t know what i’m doing.


	2. Old Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mixture of the calm and the storm.

The next two days either went by slow or fast.

In the moment, he could feel each and every agonizing second tick by. He could hear it too, thanks to his stupid powers.

_A curse and a blessing._

But on the other end, Friday had suddenly arrived and he was bouncing on his toes in Tony’s lab.

His eyes would flutter to the clock every ten minutes and he’d bit his lip.

On any normal day, Peter would be joyful to spend this much time with Tony.

It had only taken a year and a half to get to a place where he was visiting weekly.

But now?

His nerves and  excitement were mixing to create an odd bundle of energy emitting from the boy.

Tony noticed it immediately. 

He didn’t say anything. But he noticed.

That is, until Peter almost spills a pint of liquid nylon on himself.

Which might sting just a little.

“Woah, steady hands there Pete.” Tony takes a fluid and rests it on top of his note pad labeled ‘Web Fluid: Version 4.02.’

“I’ve got this here, how ‘bout you tinker with the jet streams of Mark 88? The thrust capacity could use some adjusting.”

Peter nods and silently moves to Tony’s previous station. 

Not quite knowing where to start, he moves aside a pair of, what he assumes is, bolt croppers and grabs a set of pliers.

”That worried, huh?” Tony’s voice asks, unprompted. Peter’s head tilts in mild confusion.

”You’re uncharacteristically quiet- and that’s never a good sign. I’m guessing... cold feet?”

”W- uh, no. No, I’m not backing out. It’s my first date.”

“Really? What about that Liz girl?”

”I don’t count abandoning her at homecoming to have a Coney Island Showdown with her dad a date.”

The entire hoco-fiasco is one of the only times Tony himself has admitted his wrong. Taking the suit was... harsh.

And dangerous, considering he knew Peter wasn’t going to stop web-slinging. All he did was take away protection.

Not his best call.

“Ah, well, you’re going to have a million of dates, so don’t harp on this one too much.”

”No offense, Mr. Stark, but that’s horrible advice.”

Tony chokes on his own cough. “Okay, stud. What plans do you got?”

”Dinner then movie-“ a gasp breaks his sentence he clips his hand. “Ouch!” He sucks on his finger and leans against the tables, facing Tony.

”It’s the classic ‘this-is-my-first-date-and-I’m-playing-it-safe’ ploy. She seems up to it.”

“Where are you going?”

”Applebee’s.”

Tony nearly choked on his cough. _Okay, no way is that going to fly._

”Please tell me that wasn’t your idea.”

”No, no, ‘course not. Most of this was MJ, I’m pretty sure she had the night planned before she asked me.”

”Good, no intern of mine chooses to take his first date to Applebee’s.”

”Yeah,” Peter thought about what to say next, choosing his words very carefully. He turns away from Tony, back to his work to maybe relieve some of the tension.

”But, going out means that Spider-Man can’t patrol tonight.”

Tony hums in reply.

”And, you know- well... you don’t actually _know_ because these days anything could happen, but-“

He sighs. _Get to the point, kid_.

Peter took the hint.

“I might bring the suit. Leave it in the car or, maybe, should I wear it-“

Tony scoffs. ”Under your clothes? No, Peter.”

”But what if somet-“

”If anything were to go wrong...” He seems to ponder his words for a moment before deciding, “I’m sure Iron Man can take a few minutes out of his day to deal with it.”

Peter almost zaps himself. Dropping the pliers, he cocks an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

”If it means that you and your girl can have a somewhat normal evening, then sure.”

”She’s not-“ Tony waves him off with his hand. His mouth quivers to a close, clearly wanting to finish his thought.

Tony doesn’t let him.

“You’re a what? Junior?”

”Sophomore.”

”Teenager is the main word. Bud,” Tony slaps a hand on his shoulder. 

”Take it from the guy who told a terrorist his home address: Keep Spidey and Parker separate. If it comes down to you needing bring out the webs, I’m sure you can hold your own. But Pete-“

Tony holds a gaze with Peter’s eyes for a moment. Neither one of them imagined the conversation turning sentimental.

Then again, this is his first date.

And it’s not like he has anyone else willing to teach him this.

“The world is weird, and doesn’t hand out normal days by the hour. It’s okay to take a slice of it for yourself every now and then. Believe me, it’s not selfish.”

And, of course, Tony had to throw in the quick: 

”You can even take the Audi if you want.”

Peter chokes on air.

Trips over himself.

Any godawful, embarrassing act he can do to express his complete bafflement at Tony’s offer, he does.

With flying colors.

”W-what? Are you kidding me?”

”Yeah, it’s like a twisted variation for the phrase ‘dress to impress’.”

”You’re not joking.”

”Not joking,” Tony confirms.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, but I don’t- I can’t. That car costs more than my apartment. Than _me_. I can’t-“

“Calm down, kid. I’m not giving you keys to the castle. You’re borrowing it for the night and I expect it back by noon tomorrow, alright?

Then, Peter gives Tony one of the most bone-crushing embraces he’s ever had.

And he’s been hugged by Captain America himself.

Tony returns the gesture with a couple light pats Peter’s back.

It’s not that he doesn’t like the kid enough to give him a hug. He’s, simply put, not comfortable with that kind of affection.

Ask Pepper.

(Or literally anyone he’s ever grown to love).

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh my god, this is the coolest day ever! Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

The kid pulls away and Tony conjures a small smile.

”Don’t mention it.”

—-

6:45. Oh god, if he’s late: he is never going to hear the end of it.

He would have been on time, had he not forgotten MJ’s flower. 

Now, with it resting on top of the console of Tony ‘Freaking’ Stark’s Audi, his brain could finally switch gears to the date he has in _fifteen_ minutes.

_Okay, okay, okay, it’ll take what? Five minutes to change clothes?_

_Ten minutes to get to Applebee’s. Five if I drive really fast. Would running be better? Traffic can be a nightmare. Or..._

His mind drifts off to his suit again.

No. Mr. Stark gave you strict orders to not mix Spider-Man and Peter Parker. 

His building once again gives him that uncomfortable tingle on the hairs of his neck. The nagging gets more and more irritating as he furthers up floors in the elevator. 

He could almost see the thick air filter into the small compartment as soon as the doors opened.

The smell was putrid. Rancid. His’s eyes almost fill with the overwhelming stench that had been infecting his apartment for the past couple of days.

It didn’t take a genius to tell him that something was off.

His senses were warning him too.  

The danger sirens echo in his head as he nears his front door.

The knob is smashed in, leaving a suspicious hand-sized hole in the frame. 

Even weirder are claw marks along the edges. 

But the door was left slightly ajar.

All he could think was, _May_! 

Except he didn’t have time to take even the smallest step before being tackled to the floor.

His instincts willed himself to throw the  perpetrator off of him, but he was _strong_.

Very strong.

And as soon as Peter got a look of his face, he determined the strength of the mystery man to be almost animalistic. 

His eyes spewing black daggers into Peters.

The corners of his lips pulled back into a big, crooked smile.

Drool from the man’s excessive breathing drips down onto Peter’s nose and chin.

”Aw, gross,” and Peter nails him in the crotch, sending the other to the ground. 

_Dumbass._

Clambering to his feet, he makes a beeline to his door.

To his dismay, crazy-guy recovers fast and scratches a clean perfect cut from his shoulder down to his waist.

Peter thanks the earth he walks on that his backpack is still on.

 _My web-shooters would be really handy right about now_ , he snides. 

He flips, takes a few steps on the ceiling, and lands on crazy-guy’s shoulders.

He gets in a few good hits before his offender’s claws are sinked into his sides.

He’s slammed into the ground, a small crater forming around his landing.

He’s hoisted back into the air before he can breathe. Crazy-guy’s nails poke holes into his shirt as he rams him into the wall.

Peter chokes for a minute; and yet, he manages whatever strength he’s got a drives both his legs into the man’s gut.

He’s off balance for a second, to Peter’s advantage. He delivers the strongest punch he can muster to his temple.

His fist burns red.

Crazy-guys collapses to he knees, the fur armor on his shoulders slightly ruffled.

For someone so menacing, the fight was easy.

And, judging by the claws, he assumes the man is responsible for the markings on his door.

Peter faces his apartment, panic settling in his stomach.

_If he touched her-_

His thoughts stop at the sound of a maniacal cackle. 

The hairs on his arm flared at the noise in an painful realization.

His sense never hurt.

But as his mind blurred and ears rung with the blast of multiple bullets, Peter was completely disoriented.

He was sound of mind enough to dodge two of the shots, but couldn’t stop the third one from lodging itself into his chest.

Maybe a forth one hit him.

He couldn’t tell.

He brain registers hitting the ground, not the fall, his backpack providing little to no cushion.

A new pair of sharp green eyes hovered over him.

Peter blinks twice, because the man looks _exactly_ like him.

Every single detail, down to the crooked nose and wild left-eyebrow is painted over the man’s face as if it were a mirror.

Aside from the eyes.

“This one’s special, Sergei.” Peter shivers because the voice matches his too.

It's like a twisted scene out of Mission Impossible.

Except the villain was winning and Tom Cruise was nowhere in sight.

”Keeping him alive might be the better option.“ He nods, like he’s agreeing with himself. “Change of plans. We’re taking him with us.”

”How does that get us-.“ the other man, ‘Sergei’ apparently, pipes in. His voice his matches the carnivorous exterior, laced with a thick Russian accent.

”What would you do if I said that this kid could not only help us get back at Stark, but also make a pretty penny along the way.”

”And the gas?”

Mask-man smiles, coyly. 

The smell.

It can’t be.

”Let’s call it assurance.”

Sergei grunts. A set of hands carry Peter by the inside of his knees and arms.

Peter struggles, but Sergei is wildly strong. He feels the hope drain out of him...

until AC/DC starts playing on his phone.

Mr. Stark.

The men look expectantly at Peter, who smuggles his fingers into his pocket and answers the call.

”Help!”

”Get the damn phone,” Sergei demands.

Mask-man yanks Peter’s hand out of his pocket. His finger hovers over the red phone.

He jerks his head, and Sergei moves, mark-man following close behind.

They were running.

Where to? He has no idea.

“Kid? Kid, are you okay?”

“Tony!” Peter’s voice rang.

Not _his_ voice. His fake voice. Mask-man’s voice.

Peter himself screams “Help!”

“Pete, what’s going on?”

”The smell!”

The cry, again, didn’t actually come form him. Peter didn’t know if he had it in him anymore to yell.

“It- it’s gas. There’s a-“

A explosion blasts behind him, sending the three to the ground. Outside? When did they get outside?

Does that mean...

No.

It couldn’t.

”Kid? Kid? Pete, come’on. Answer me.”

_Come on, Mr. Stark. Find me. Find May._

Mask-man ends the call and Sergei picks him back up.

The blood dripping down his shirt became less prominent. His eyes drooped shut, allowing orange sparks to dance behind his eyelids. 

\---

To say Michelle was out of her comfort-zone was an understatement. 

A big one.

Originally, she planned on dressing causal and comfortable. But everything felt wrong.

Jeans turned to shorts. One thing lead to another and now she's wearing a dress.

Michelle never hated dresses. Maybe it wasn't her preference. And maybe she didn't have many of them. Yet, for some odd reason, she felt an eggplant Sunday dress was necessary for this occasion, although it's not the fanciest of restaurants.  _Peter better be in a tuxedo or something, 'cause I feel like a clown._

Not showing up at seven o'clock was suspect. But, then again, it's Peter Benjamin Parker. She could count the times he's been punctual on one hand.

She chooses not to take it to heart. Is she going to berate him about being late when he shows up? Totally. As a heads up, she shoots him a text:

**it's 7:01 parker**

**disappointed but not** **surprised**

Ten minutes made her nervous. Call her overbearing, but being ten minutes late to a first date isn't a good sign. Or impression. 

And she looks like a loser, sitting alone in a table for two. Getting stood up at _Applebee's_ is a new kind of low for Michelle. 

**we're going to miss the movie**

**peter?**

**if i don't see you by 7:20, i'm going home**

The news gets to her before then. At 7:13, to be exact.

The noise around the bar grew and dining hubbub simmered down.

Michelle follows the point of focus to a T.V. that was showing Mets baseball. It changes to the news.

For Michelle, it showed an eerily familiar apartment building swarming in flames.

"-authorities are currently arriving to the scene. The blast radius has been currently confirmed to have hit the third and fourth floor and is spreading at an alarming rate-"

The caption gave her no peace of mind. 

> -COMPLEX IN FOREST HILLS, QUEENS EXPLODES. CAUSE OF EXPLOSION UNKNOWN...

Having been to his apartment, she knows his room is on the fourth floor.

She knows his room is gone. 

MJ doesn't usually pray. But she does to every God she can think of.

 _Please._ _Please, let them be okay._

She scrambles for her phone and tries to call Peter. No answer. May. No answer. 

Peter again. No answer.

Could he still be with Tony? No, he would've left.

She's never wanted contact with the billionaire more.

Her fingers are wet. And shaking harder than ever. _Holy shit!_ She's crying.

How did she not notice before? She's supposed to be the observant one. 

**peter. i'm going to kill you if you don't respond**

**please**

**were you there?**

**tell me you're okay**

No reply.

Her heart _plummeted_.

She sends him a final text and, once her sandals were off, she sprints.

And never has she ever run so fast.

**i'm coming**


	3. Fire and Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The explosion hit the news at 7:10.  
> Some people knew it happened before then.

Tony felt bad.

The kid left with his tail between his legs, scared to death of his date.

Tony thought about calling off and on. 

He stayed cooped in his labs his lab from the moment Peter was gone.

The time of day it took to talk to the kid was fun and he loved developing ways to improve the Spidey-Suit, but he still had to get substantial work done.

Eventually, however, he gave into his nerves and gave the kid a call.

To wish him luck and all that.

It rang only a few times.

Peter’s first words were muffled. 

“Elmp!” However unintelligible those words were, Tony was smart enough to figure is couldn’t mean anything good.

”Emh da dan phone!”

Word, word, word... phone?

_The hell is going on?_

The mic on Peter’s end shuffles- creating a fit of disturbance on Tony’s.

The static audio comes clear but with an unsettling silence.

”Kid? Kid, are you okay?”

The beat of a pause gives him time to catch his breath.

Then Peter responds.

”Tony!” 

Tony? _When did the kid start calling me-_

“Help!”

Never mind that now. Tony feels, for once in his life, a blessing.

He called right as Peter needed him.

“The smell! It- it’s gas! There’s a-“

_**BOOM!** _

Tony himself flinches at the sound 

“Kid?”

The call was still on and he could hear his voice echo on the other side of _wherever_  Peter was.

“Kid? Pete, come’on. Answer me.”

The phone disconnects.

Tony stands, now alert, tapping the new reactor in his chest. 

A swarm of a nano-bots spread the length of his chest and around his back.

His helmet wraps around his head, FRIDAY greeting him instantly.

”Hello sir!”

”Track Peter’s phone!”

”Track Peter Parker’s phone?”

Peter’s picture pop on screen. 

He’s smiling a big toothy grin, his eyes crazed.

Tony remembers the day.

They were taking a series of photos in front of the Stark Industries logo. For an attempt to get kids to stop bulling Peter, it was a fun afternoon.

Peter still says he hasn't used it against anyone.

Yet.

In the context of the picture, Peter’s holding a thumb up next to Tony’s amused figure.

”Peter’s phone appears to be offline.”

” _What_?!”

“Peter’s phone appears-“

”I know what you said! How?”

”The only way for a signal to be off my radar is if substantial damage has been done to the receiver.”

“Where was his last known location?”

FRIDAY takes too long a second.

Tony knows exactly what the other line sounded like.

An explosion.

If Peter had his phone... and a bomb went off... and the signal to his phone is gone...

No.

“Peter’s last satellite location undetected. I could link the satellite to your system by surveying his call history, but will take time.”

_Time he doesn’t have._

”Damn! Do it anyway!”

Think, think, think, think, think.

There has to be a faster way.

He knows the kid was heading to his apartment, but how could he tell if he had even got there yet?

Gas!

He mentioned gas in the call at one point.

What gas?

_I should’ve listened to the kid more-_

His mind flips to their last conversation.

Date, Applebee’s, Spider-Man...

Car.

Bingo.

”Fri, track my Audi!”

Three dots bubble on the screen, bouncing fruitlessly.

“Location set on 20 Ingram Street. You have this address saved as Peter’s complex in Forest Hills.”

Shit.

That’s too far.

And it’s might already be too late.

If a bomb went off there... does that mean his aunt was in the blast too?

He doesn’t take another moment to worry about the possibility.

He takes off, blasting a whole in the ceiling of the compound.

Driving, he’d be over an hour away.

Flying?

Thirty minutes.

Tops.

Pepper’s heels click quickly against the tile.

She notices the hole in the roof before finishing imputing the code into the door.

”What’s goin’ on?” Rhodey says over the phone.

She rolls her eyes, peaking at the sky and seeing he fiancé fly across New York.

”Tony blew the roof... again.”

—-

MJ arrives via taxi.

Though illegal, she encouraged him to speed and take a few shortcuts through driveways.

Not super safe, but efficient.

All that matters is: it got the job done.

It only cost her all of the date-night-movie-money.

And the longest thirteen minute drive of her life.

Upon arrival, the sight, oddly enough, wasn’t as bad as it appeared on T.V.. Maybe because paramedics has arrived and firefighters were working on controlling the blaze.

But it was way too loud for her liking. She could hears gasps and cries mixed with multiple news reporters. How many stations were here?

The castors bombarding others with questions while parading around as if they own the place was way too distracting.

_How are they going to get anything done?_

People were filtering out of the building, some carrying others. Most of the survivors stayed huddled around three ambulances.

She was too far away to tell if Peter or his aunt were there.

She gave her surroundings a quick glance before jumping over the barricade.  

She didn’t get too far before two men grabbed her arms. “Miss,” one began. His throat was scratchy, but she didn’t have the mind space to tell whether or not it was the smoke from fires or cigarettes.

”I’m going to need you to get back.”

 _No, no, no, no, no_ \- “No, no, no, no! Please! My friend might be in there! I need to know if he’s okay.”

“Yes, we understand Miss. But for the time being, we need you out of the way and out of danger.” 

Their grip tightened ever-so-slightly.

Until the classic red and gold colours flew over the sky.

He landed less than graceful, but she supposed it didn’t matter.

“Stark!”

He turned. She couldn’t tell if there was any recognition. She imagined not.

On the off chance that Peter told The Tony Stark about her, she yells, “Fourth Floor!”

Ironman nods, quickly gesturing to the officers. “Let her go.” They do so.

His faceplate lifts for barley a moment.

“I’ll find them. The kid’s tough.”

He took off right as she began to ask what that meant.

The group of ‘survivors’ was over and underwhelming. 

No Peter. No May.

But (and she counted 14) people covered in cinders and blankets. One kid was alone, shaking on the back of an ambulance.

She did recognize one person, however. “Mrs. Moon!”

A teary, middle-aged women perked up at her name. “Michelle? What are you doing here?” 

“I’m looking for someone. Have you seen Peter or May Parker?”

She sighs and slowly shakes her head.

“How did this happen?”

”Some kind of pipe explosion. This place smelled horrible for the past few days. But someone, or I thought someone, fixed it today.”

”Do- do you know if Peter was home? Or May.”

”I’m sorry, sweetie. There was a bit of ruckus outside my room before it happened, but other than that, I don’t know who was and wasn’t home.”

”Okay,” her shallow breathing made it almost too difficult to stand. Mrs. Moon held her steady. “Michelle, are you-“

”I’m okay. I’m okay. I just need to-“ she stumbles onto the ground. “Was, uh, was Cindy...? Is she okay?”

She smiled lightly, “She’s at Betty’s house, thank goodness.”

”Oh,” _so she got to live_. “Thank God.”

MJ verges on losing all composure that she’s subconsciously tried to maintain.

Ned calls.

After excusing herself from Mrs. Moon, she answered.

“MJ? Have you seen the news? Is Peter there? Oh, please tell me he is. I’m interrupting your date, aren’t I? That’s why he isn’t answering his phone. Your on your date?”

”He wasn't there.”

”W-what? No.”

”You heard me. Pete- he never showed up. He-“ _Deep breaths, MJ._ “He wasn’t there.”

“Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay. Has he called you? Maybe he’s-“

”He’s not here either. I came as soon as I could, Tony’s looking too, but... I don’t think he-“

”Hey, MJ, listen. If anyone can survive a blast, it’s Peter Parker. It takes a lot more than that to kill him.”

_Don't say ‘kill’. Kill means dead._

The philosophy starts to bug her.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? What makes him different from anyone else... w-who-“

She did not sign up for this.

Ned pauses.

“Please, trust me. They’re gonna be-“

“He’s Spider-Man, isn’t he?”

Ned didn’t speak after that. And he didn’t need too. MJ knew. In the back of her mind, she always did. But the goofy exterior and failure to tie a shoe nearly convinced her otherwise.

“MJ, I- I can’t-“

”I know, Ned. Don’t worry. I’m not leaving here without them.”

”Michelle...”

“Listen Ned, if he is who I think he is, then there’s no way that-“

She didn’t get the change to finish.

The ceiling. The entire goddamn roof. Three levels worth of land - people’s homes - collapse in on itself.

Few screams erupted both in and outside the building. MJ stayed quiet and dropped her phone with Ned still on the line.

A suit of armour blasted through the wall with two people clinging to his sides.

_Could it be-?_

But the two who land with him aren’t the ones she hoped for.

It’s a bitch to be disappointed in someone else’s survival because they’re not who you wanted.

That’s it. The fire was practically out.

No one else was coming out of that building.

She leans on the apparent Audi parked on the curb.

_Weird._

Her wishes she could cry her eyes out. But her stony expression masks the tears relentlessly pooling down her face.

“Michelle?”

It’s a wonder that Tony Stark knew her name, but she could take a few guesses as to how he came about that information.

She didn’t need to look at him to know he was crying.

And he didn’t need to see her.

She stood on the same level as Tony, something she’s sure few other people  have the pleasure of doing.

But she didn’t give a damn.

They stared at the car. Tony’s car, because May could never afford a car like this.

He unlocked the door and picked the flower from the console.

He held it tightly, fingers shaking ever-so-slightly. Dahlia, good choice.

By the color of her dress, Tony knew it would've looked perfect.

Must’ve been May’s idea.

He feels pressured to keep his emotions in check. For Michelle. For the media. But the kid is dead.

They’d understand this one slip-up, right?

She didn’t do anything.

_How did he...?_

_Oh!_

_Oh._

She took it by the stem.

She wanted to kill it.

To throw it in the flames and watch it burn along with him.

But she couldn’t.

 _He_ bought it for her.

Burning it is burning him and his intentions.

An ugly pain soared in her heart as she watched the flames reflect in the shimmering petals.

Not a day in her life did Michelle care about Tony Stark.

Hell, she disagreed with most of the statements he made.

But they did have one fact in common.

They both loved the same boy.

She wasn’t so sure originally.

But when Tony Stark hugged her tightly, it didn’t matter. She’s aware if his inconsistent track record of liking physical affection.

She had to move her arm quickly, though.

She didn’t want to crush his flower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn’t edit this too much so it might be *bad*


	4. It’s Quiet Midtown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One month later.

> SPIDER-MAN MISSING?
> 
> CRIME ESCALATES SINCE THE SUDDEN DISAPPEARANCE OF THE FRIENDLY HERO
> 
> TONY STARK TO DISCUSS SPIDER-MAN!
> 
> SPIDER-MAN DEAD
> 
> BEHIND THE MASK! FRESH NEWS ON THE LATE GREAT HERO
> 
> SPIDER-MAN IDENTITY REVEALED
> 
> SUPER-TEAM WITH A SUPER-TEEN?
> 
> THE TRAGIC STORY OF PETER PARKER.

He can explain.

The idea of a grandeur memorial service for Spider-man man rubs Tony the wrong way.

Peter and May’s funeral felt surreal. Oddly enough, a lot of students showed up. Peter had apparently touched the lives of more people than he knew.

The memorial was quiet. 

Michelle, MJ to Peter, was quiet.

Tony Stark was quiet. (The students were surprised that the man showed up, but it was touching. No one dared to talk to him. Their super-avenger-fan selves didn’t have the nerve to bring up his fane at a time like this).

And what was really daunting, was lowering the two empty caskets to the ground. It did strike a nerve that neither Peter nor May had any remnants left.

Well, that’s not exactly true. They found dental records of May Parker, but nothing for Peter. Tony investigated it for two weeks before deciding that it was pointless. They were both gone and holding on to false hope only made the grief feel longer. 

Ned Leeds, however, wasn’t quiet. After the funeral, all he could do is stare at the empty chair in the lunch room and reminisce on one of he and Peter’s last conversation. He finds it horribly ironic that one of the last things they discussed was the future and what colleges they wanted to go to.

It’s almost like the universe was mocking and laughing at him in some cruel and twisted way. 

Suddenly, asking out Betty Brant was a toss up. 

On one end, Peter said he should go for it. And, who knows? Maybe he needs someone like Betty in a time like this.

On the other, he felt like he was maybe leaving Peter behind.

And... he just can’t do that.

In all of this, he finally got to meet his hero, Tony Stark. And by ‘meet,’ he means ‘receive a pat on the back from.’

He wishes he could have met him in better circumstances. Literally any other circumstance.

But, the world works in wondrous (and screwed up) ways. So, they got to bond over the loss of their best friend/protégé.

Not only that, but May Parker too.

Hell, the whole Parker bloodline was erased in a little over ten years. Tony almost volunteered himself to arrange the funeral, but they found a family friend to pick the (empty) caskets and flowers. 

Peter’s was obviously too large for his smaller body, but Tony thought (perhaps) that’s what Peter would’ve wanted.

But this time, everything coordinated with Tony.

The decision to reveal Peter’s identity wasn’t an easy one. He talked to Pepper and Ned, mostly, who both agreed to wait a bit (or, a month, as Tony decided). The news and media realized their favorite web-slinger was MIA, and took to twitter within two weeks of the fire.

Tony received a ridiculous amount of messages and calls to actions. It was public knowledge that Ironman and Spider-man were buddies, but he didn’t think they’d target him specifically.

But, it does make sense. The only thing people knew for sure about Spider-Man was his association with Tony Stark, brief involvement with the Sokovia Accords, and lifesaving capabilities.

The only issue was: that’s all anyone cared about.

However, Tony wanted people to care about the kid.

Peter Parker and everyone else who died in the damned fire.

Because no one else got their (empty) casket carried through Queens on live television.

No one else got graffiti art and parade floats.

Peter Parker wouldn’t get his service broadcasted for half the world to see.

No fans crowding the streets that carried his casket.

Peter got something small and suiting to himself.

Spider-Man got the news.

Because the people cared about Spider-Man.

Not Peter Parker.

For Tony, it was the opposite.

Sure, when he originally recruited the kid, it was strictly professional.

He’d help bring down a patriotic war criminal, then Tony would keep an eye on him.

No more, no less.

But damn, after the Homecoming Fiasco, he couldn’t bare to take one eyes off of the kid.

And that, somehow, led to... this.

As horrific as it is, Tony’s glad Peter didn’t die from Spider-Man.

But... shit. The kid was gone and he can’t  breathe.

He can’t speak.

So instead, he sits. 

Pepper (thankfully) wraps her arm around his neck to offer some kind of condolence. Comfort. Anything to let him know she’s here and she’s grounded.

She’d met the kid only a few times, but he did make one hell of an impression. And she knew that Tony would eventually find a way to blame himself for everything. But for now, he’s quite. And he’s relatively stable.

The orchestra plays music that’s somehow managing to be too loud and too quiet all at the same time. 

Then it’s over. Pepper reaches across the couch and shut the T.V. down.

The world seems silent now.

”Tony.” She holds his hand and lightly pulls him to bed, even though it’s half-past seven. 

“Tony.” He knows he hasn’t spoken at all today. He went through motions silently and allowed everyone else to do the work.

He feels numb.

He can’t speak.

And laying in bed, he realizes he just can’t breathe.

 —-

Let it be known, that the original intentions of Peter’s captors were purely selfish.

They’d hold him for a while, perhaps rough him up a little, and finally force Stark to trade a pretty penny for the boy.

And when the intern turned out to be Spider-Man himself, the price on his head surely would jump!

But the selfish beginnings lead to malevolent methods.

To think, if Stark had waited a week before revealing his identity, the kid could be living life as a free “man.” The trade would be made and both parties left remotely satisfied.

However, cards were in favor of the villains this time.

And what was a simple kidnapping then became a mass conglomeration of multi-variety experimentation.

Gathering products of a mutated individual who could walk on walls and lift buses would surely be time well spent.

How long would the experiments go on? Doesn’t matter.

It would take however long it needed to take.

And when it’s all said and done, they would still have Stark, who’d definitely be willing to see his little boy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay,,, this chapter ISNT. good. so, sorry. but i gotta get thru this chapter and the next to get to the good stuff so bare with me here


	5. A Short History of Masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6 months after the untimely death of Peter Parker.

mask 

/mask/

_noun_  

  1. a covering for all or part of the face, worn as a disguise, or to amuse or terrify other people.



_verb_

  1. conceal (something) from view. 



Mid 16th century: from French _masque_ , from Italian _maschera_ , _mascara_ , probably from medieval Latin _masca_ ‘witch, specter’, but influenced by Arabic _masḵara_ ‘buffoon’.

She closed the book.

That’s enough Webster for the day.

***

Apparently, the Avengers were back together. Or, _getting_ back together is the better word for it. Tony Stark said something public about the whole affair on the news at one point, but who has the time to watch every broadcast?

Ned sure didn’t. He was too busy... well, he was too busy busying himself. Halloween was right around the corner (technically, Halloween had reached the corner) and his Plan was set. He’d been debating on it for a while, but this time he was going to see it through.

Prior preparation prevents poor performance, as they say. And, needless to say, Ned came prepared with a foolproof plan for Trick-Or-Treating (No, it’s not childish. Candy hunting is a sport to be enjoyed by all ages). 

Maybe it was last minute to ask Betty out the day of, but what could go wrong? His Plan was MJ approved, and that’s all the verification things need nowadays. 

The overview of The Plan was:

1\. Ask Betty to go out with him.

2\. She says yes.

Theoretically, if he follows it exactly, nothing can go wrong.

MJ mentioned needing Betty to be aware of the The Plan too, but that would come later. As in, he would clue her in when The Plan was in action.

But anyway, the Avengers were back!

The news wasn’t particularly new. Rumors spread fast about spotting the likes of Steve Rogers and Stephen Strange around the Compound in Manhattan. And after the big broadcasted breakup, one could only assume the Accords were being amended in some way.

That, or they were finally fighting to the death.

But the former seemed less exciting, and therefore more likely.

The publicity was... odd. Tony Stark himself hadn’t been seen out in a while. Photos were “leaked” of Pepper Potts and Happy Hogan, but the man himself disappeared behind the walls of his company.

Speaking of which, Stark Industries had never been more active... financially. Suddenly, the philanthropist inside of Stark bloomed more fervidly than in any recent years.

Charities benefitting poor and low-income families were having a ball with the sudden surplus of money. 

Especially in Queens, for no explicitly stated reason.

One could only assume...

But now it’s confirmed, at least. Stark had been busy mending bonds with former (now current) Avengers, and the world could feel a little safer.

Onto more important matters: Betty.

***

Tony’s eyes wandered the conference table. Everything felt blissfully bittersweet. But with Pepper by his side, he could do this.

Anyone could do anything with that women involved. She dealt with every problem with an iron fist, and few, not even Tony, could stop her when she’s determined.

For a 8-foot round table, it wasn’t nearly big enough for the paperwork of a nonprofit organization, which apparently involved the government and state a lot more than Tony anticipated.

The Parker Fountain.

The idea made him smile. May and Peter Parker being remembered in their best light. The one that showed their true, not blue and red, colours. 

Something that stuck up for the little guy in more ways than one.

And, though it was still in early developments, it made Tony feel _excited_. Excited for the future. It was a feeling he didn’t know he was missing.

”Did you send the memo to Deborah Stokes? She mentioned a charity called the Empowerment Plan and I wanted to hear about it a little more.”

Tony nodded. “She said she’ll have her people call ours, in a non-bullshit way. I guess people only care to listen when I’m the one reaching out.”

“I’m sure she found your reason compelling.”

”No, my personality is definitely what’s going to seal the deal.”

“Whatever you say,” she began.

“Do you think you’ll be able to talk about it?”

”About what?”

”Peter. In less than a year, reporters and fans are going to want to know all about who Peter and May Parker were, besides the obvious.” Tony let the words sink in. He knew the answer, but putting it into a sentence proved to be a challenge.

”When the time comes, I’ll be ready. I’m... I won’t be for a while. But something in me will get it done somehow.”

The knocking of the door dragged her attention away for a moment. Tony rearranged a few files.

Pepper answered the door to none other than Sam Wilson. They shared a few words that consequently sent Pepper out door and down the hall. But Tony didn’t pay any mind to that.

Sam approached him and stood at his level, as an equal. Sam’s presence didn’t annoy Tony as much as he originally thought it would. Bucky was the only person he couldn’t look at directly in the eye, yet.

”Where did Pep go?”

“Someone had a package for Stark to be signed off on.”

”Ah.” They sat in silence. Sam knew roughly what Tony was doing. But his overall lack of knowledge led him to ask: “How’s the charity coming along?”

”It’s legally called a nonprofit organization, not that anyone’s correcting you, but it’s coming along. It’ll be entirely finished and glossed over by August of next year, hopefully.”

”That seems like a long time.”

”It won’t feel like it. When the bun’s in the oven it doesn’t take long to boil, or however that saying’s supposed to go.”

“Would now be a good time to mention that buns don’t boil?”

”I’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

”I’m sure you will. God forbid Tony Stark misspeaks.” Tony sighed in what could almost be considered a light laugh. 

Sam wanted to ask about Peter. It seemed like everyone at the Compound who didn’t know the kid wanted to ask about him, but were too afraid to. The moment at hand seemed to joyous to bring up the elephant in the room that took the form of a dead kid.

All Sam (or anyone for that matter) knew was: Peter Parker was Spider-Man. Tony had somehow taken both professional and personal interests in the boy. His aunt was everything anyone would ever need. They died in a fire. They died too young.

They all made inferences that the kid had friends and other mourning loved ones, but no one ever talked about it. It was a lingering thought that would lay waste to Tony’s grieving.

Pepper returned to their silence.

She held a brown box with a shipping address duct-taped to the top. It appeared incredibly informal, especially since it’s residing spot was in the Avenger’s Compound.

Sam did the honors of ripping open the package. It felt like a Dad Joke, because opening it only led to: the removal of a surplus of packing peanuts and the opening of another box. The final one was about the size of a bar of soap.

Sam gently cut the tape with a small army knife that conveniently sat in his pocket (why he didn’t use it from the start was unknown). Tony stared at the junk in the box.

Or, more specifically, Tony stared at the crumpled shell of what, he assumes, was once a phone.

***

The art of Trick-or-Treating can only be done by experts of Time. One might say that at a certain age, the sport is no longer “cool” or “accepted.” Well, when has the fearless protagonist in any story ever tried to follow society’s regulations?

Long story short, Betty said yes. Though the intention was to say: “Betty, wanna come to my house for Halloween?” it ended up: “Betty... I have a house and an old, well not _super_ old, costume. And we could, y’know, be one. Or, go as one. A pair! Go together... no... yeah! We could go together as a pair.”

That seemed to translate well.

Ned stared at his phone. He’d texted MJ an invite, but she must not have her phone on.

Or she’s ignoring him. For MJ, it could honestly go either way.

Ned sported a cowboy-esque costume. He felt like nailing the “Lone Ranger” style for no other reason than metaphorically playing hard to get with Betty. (Partner costumes like Hans Solo and Luke felt oddly strange).

Betty wounded up arriving at the same time MJ responded. 

**i don’t rlly want to do anything tonight. sorry. have fun!**

Ned sighed, but swallowed his disappointment to greet Betty.

She. Looked. Radiant. She wore a white dress with what looked to be homemade feathered wings. A halo made of various shaded yellow pipe-cleaners rested on her golden curls. Curls! _I don’t think she’s ever curled her hair!_

And whatever perfume she was wearing worked wonders on ensnaring Ned’s senses. He could breathe it every day if he had the choice.

”Hey, Ned!”

”Betty... wow. You look... uh... wow. Stun- daz-... uh-“

”Yeah, thanks! And you look... yeah! You look... nice, handsome too. I like the hat.” She quickly pointed at his head before fiddling with her fingers again. 

“No problem and thank you. Do you wanna...” He gestured outside to the street. She glanced behind herself before nodding eagerly. 

She held out her hand for him to take. He did. Her palm was slightly sweaty but he didn’t care to notice. He led her outside and they walked along the side of the street. They were so well disguised with the many costumes around them, that no one noticed they didn’t go to any houses for candy. They just talked.

Betty was a generally stressed person. She began talking about school and how much her future is riding on every little decision she makes in high school. She would squeeze his hand a little harder when she started to get anxious. He gently squeezed back.

Somehow, her worries and rants to confide in him made him feel at peace. She needed someone to support her and he was there, as he always has been.

He was The Guy in the Chair in more ways than one.

Even when she scratched her running nose or rubbed her ashy elbow, she was beautiful. Everything about the day, the night, and her was beautiful. She was a his golden angel. And for once, he almost forgot about Pet-

“Excuse me.” He was brought out of his Betty-induced trance to a kid pulling the edge of his shirt. Ned almost didn’t hear him until the kid spoke again.

Ned looked down at the kid and could’ve fainted. Not because of the kid himself: it was what he was wearing.

A Spider-Man costume. 

It was something cheap that was most likely purchased online, but it was unmistakable.

Ned stopped and could only stare at the kid. Betty took notice of Ned’s panicked state and helped the kid herself. Then he was gone, as if it never happened. Betty took his hand again and moved him along the sidewalk, guiding him with an arm around his shoulder.

Laughter sprang from all around them. All he could hear was Peter. Ned took a moment to stop and observe the street, filled with kids and parents all traveling house to house.

It was not coincidence. It was no mistake. Practically every kid was showing their red and blue Spidey Spirit. 

Everyone had wanted to dress up as the late neighborhood hero.

Suddenly he wanted to throw up.

***

Work seemed to be harder when he kept crying and screaming. Blessing him with anesthesia didn’t seem to do them any good either.

The boy was simple to handle once the solution was within reach.

All they had to do was find a different angle. 

So, they put a makeshift mask between his mind and his eyes. Hopefully now, his grievances were dulled enough to keep him quiet and mindful.

It worked like a charm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anybody got ideas of how to write well-ly?

**Author's Note:**

> i... don't know where i'm going with this but we'll see


End file.
